


folly

by nise_kazura, pensee



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Will Graham, F/F, Female Hannibal Lecter, Female Will Graham, Genderbending, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Thigh Rutting, Top Hannibal Lecter, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nise_kazura/pseuds/nise_kazura, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensee/pseuds/pensee
Summary: Will likes it when she’s riding the edge of pain. She loves the sweet anticipation, the tumbling rise before the fall, the drawn-out torture. She loves being forced to bend, the comfort of being put into her place, the reduction of the world down to the basest of senses. And Hannibal can deliver all of that and more to her. She can, and she will.-Lesbians, serendipitously on Lesbian Visibility Day.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 142





	folly

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i actually imagine will and hannibal as bi/pan in most universes but "lesbians." just reads better and also according to twitter trending apparently it's lesbian visibility day? so thats what u get for the summary lmao  
> -kazu
> 
> Enjoy.   
> -pensée

Will lets out a gaspy laugh as Hannibal’s breath gusts over her left nipple. Hannibal lovingly caresses the tiny mounds, pushing them together and apart.

“You’re so weird,” says Will, lying back and letting Hannibal do as she wishes. “There’s nothing even there.”

“You’re exquisite,” Hannibal says, earnest and adoring, and laves a hot tongue over the nipple she’d been rubbing with her thumb. “Art.”

Will tucks her feet behind Hannibal’s thighs, tugging her closer so that she lays firmly in the cradle of Will’s hips. 

“Oh yeah? What else?”

Hannibal’s lips part from Will’s skin with a pop.

“Art must be appreciated and treated with care.”

“Then appreciate me. Though I don’t know about the ‘treat with care’ part.”

Will tangles her hand in the long, silvery-blonde strands of Hannibal’s hair and tugs her up from where she’d been resting on her chest. Their lips meet with a soft sound and for a moment there’s only the whisper of skin on skin and their harsh breathing, punctuated by the sucking noises of their lips coming together again and again.

“Hurry up.” Will’s voice has taken on that high, breathy tone that Hannibal has memorized.

“Patience, darling,” Hannibal chides, but she drags her nose and mouth down the long, pale column of Will’s neck, breathing in deep. Her teeth skim Will’s clavicle, trace the swell of her right breast, and then Hannibal nuzzles Will’s belly, her hands spreading wide along the silky skin of Will’s inner thighs as she presses Will open.

Hannibal loves eating Will out. She loves her tangy taste, her musky smell, the sound of her hitched breathing, the involuntary clench of muscle around her tongue. A feast for all of her senses.

She loves it when Will begins to squirm, sweat glistening along her skin, a lovely pink flush spreading down to her chest, and Hannibal has to grip her hips to keep her still as she takes what she wants.

Sometimes they pretend it’s not about mutual satisfaction, that Will is nothing more than a receptacle for Hannibal’s own desires, the selfish pleasure that drives them both to such fearsome heights. Sometimes, she thinks that Will doesn’t have to pretend as much as she claims. 

Hannibal could do whatever she wanted to in those moments, though she often refrains.  _ Whatever she wants _ often entails breaking something fragile, and while Will can be so beautifully broken, they’ve moved beyond the point where either of them consider strictly breaking a necessity. So, this constant struggle remains, the simmering power to break and build each other up in equal measures. 

_ Tonight, _ she thinks,  _ I’ll see you bend for me, sweet girl.  _

Will’s hands clench in Hannibal’s hair and Hannibal’s name leaves her lips in a prayer. When Hannibal pulls away, her mouth and chin are shiny with Will’s slick. 

“You’re delicious, darling.”

Will drops her head back with a laugh.

“You always say that.”

Hannibal drags her lips along the tendon of Will’s inner thigh, right where it meets her pelvis, then buries her nose in the small thatch of hair. She inhales deeply and gives Will’s clit another kiss, worrying it with the tip of her tongue just to feel the way Will jolts in response.

“Mmmm,” Hannibal hums, dragging a finger down the center of Will’s folds. “You aren’t talking back to me, are you, doll? No, my good little girl wouldn’t do that, would she?”

She slips her finger deeper in and curls it, rubbing in little circles near the front where she knows Will is sensitive.

“Hannibal,” Will groans, “c’mon, stop teasing.”

“I think I’ll do what I like with you,” Hannibal responds primly. She slips in a second finger and spreads them to lick in between, spearing her tongue in and out.

Will’s nails scratch at her scalp as she tries to tug her closer, hips bucking beneath Hannibal’s hand in an attempt to hump her face.

Hannibal pulls back again and blows against Will’s sopping wet core as Will whines for her to  _ come back, keep going, I’m sorry, Hannibal, I’ll be a good girl, just for you, all for you. _

“I don’t quite believe you, my dear,” Hannibal says, smiling as Will clutches at her hair, trying to jam Hannibal’s face back towards her dripping labia. 

“No, gimme your mouth back, please,” Will squirms, pouting adorably when Hannibal just rests her wet chin on her thigh, waiting. 

“Ugh, I wish you wouldn’t be such a control freak,” Will says, breath shivering a bit as Hannibal trails feather-light kisses across the meatiest part of her thigh. 

“Show me you want it,” Hannibal says, pulling back enough for Will to brace herself against the headboard, palm splayed out, then spasming weakly as if expressing some internal conflict within its owner. 

Hannibal watches the thin, delicate skin of Will’s throat as she swallows. Her voice is soft as she turns over onto her hands and knees, ass thrust out like a bitch waiting to be mounted. 

“C-could you fuckmyassagain?”

Smirking to herself, Hannibal squeezes the round of Will’s right cheek with her broad hand. 

Last week, Will had, unbeknownst to Hannibal, ordered a rather large and rather unconventional sex toy using Hannibal’s credit card. Shifting shyly from foot to foot, she had presented her prize while Hannibal had been in the middle of a phone conversation with a patient, her naughty little girl ever-eager to sully her office as she removed the dildo from its case. The shaft was almost plant-like in appearance, as if it were composed of a tangled mass of vines. Veiny and dotted with spotted bulbs, it was thickest at its base and skinnier at the opposite end, though no matter how narrow it was in comparison, either side would surely stretch Will’s tight hole. 

The toy’s base was solid enough that Will could set it down on the near-pristine floor in Hannibal’s study, and it stood up on its own. Hannibal had watched with greedy eyes as Will stripped out of the oversized flannel shirt she usually wore as pajamas in their home, slipped out of her panties as Hannibal scented the salty-sweet aroma of her slick. A thin, clear line of it clung to the fabric of her underwear before she tossed it aside onto a barely-used divan. She’d been playing with herself for some time, it seemed, her inner thighs already wet. 

Hannibal tracked her as she moved to squat over the impressive toy, choking off a whimper as she worked it into herself without anything else save her own fluids to ease the way. She was a good girl when she wanted to be, and knew what the punishment was for interrupting Hannibal at work, no matter how they both enjoyed when she wandered in to provide a bit of reprieve from the platitudes and needless reassurances her clients needed every hour of the day. 

Will was so soaked she began to squelch as she worked her hips over the dildo, desperately fucking herself by the time Hannibal ended her call, slamming the phone onto her desk with a muted thunk. 

“Into bed with you, darling,” she had said, rough growl in her voice, and Will had been so smug, right up until the point where Hannibal put her on her hands and knees, much like she was now, and licked into her other hole until she was squirming, completely neglecting Will’s aching cunt. 

Having had the foresight to retrieve the toy from its vigil on her office floor, she’d coated it in lube and began to tease it against Will’s weakly clenching asshole.

They’re in a very similar position, now. The tempting, sweet, heart-shape of Will’s ass firm beneath Hannibal’s hands, the pucker of her hole winking at Hannibal from between her cheeks, right above her puffy, pink lips.

Hannibal smiles and smacks Will’s ass lightly, just to watch the way the skin reddens slightly beneath her hand, the satisfying ripple of flesh.

“Stay there.”

Will bites her lip to keep herself from saying something stupid like “hurry up”, and Hannibal goes over to the closet to pull out the same dildo, which is quickly becoming a favorite. She takes her time, stopping by the bedside dresser to take out the lube before returning. Will is impatiently rocking back and forth, already anticipating the motions of a good fucking.

“I thought I told you to stay,” Hannibal admonishes.

“I did,” Will pouts. “I’m still here.”

Hannibal resists the urge to eye-roll—Will is rubbing off on her, it seems. 

“Be still, now.”

She dribbles lube directly onto Will’s hole and rubs a finger around the opening, just feeling it, before plunging a finger in. Will’s insides are warm, and her muscles squeeze down on Hannibal’s finger. 

“Still so tight,” Hannibal murmurs. 

“You gonna do something about it?”

“Well, I must, mustn’t I? A naughty thing like you should have a loose, sloppy hole, don’t you think? So that everyone will know how much you love a good fuck? It would be remiss of me to let you carry on like this.”

Will groans, hands fisting into the pillows. She loves it when Hannibal curses.

“C’mon, Hannibal. Do it rough. You know how I like it.”

Hannibal does.

Will likes it when she’s riding the edge of pain. She loves the sweet anticipation, the tumbling rise before the fall, the drawn-out torture. She loves being forced to bend, the comfort of being put into her place, the reduction of the world down to the basest of senses. And Hannibal can deliver all of that and more to her. She can, and she will.

Hannibal hawks and spits, the noise alone enough to make goosebumps break out all over Will’s sweaty skin. The frothy mess of saliva hits Will’s tailbone and slides into her clenching hole, fighting the stretch as Hannibal scissors her fingers apart. They both know that she’d try to take Hannibal’s hand down to the wrist, and further, if Hannibal wanted, all of Will’s hard work to keep the monster toy in Hannibal’s hand a secret be damned. 

She’s half-betting that Hannibal will forget about the dildo and just shove her long fingers in, so she has to stifle a long keen as Hannibal replaces two of her digits with the dildo’s spongy head. 

“ _ Fuck _ .”

Hannibal laughs, low and sadistic. “You’d like something in that needy little pussy as well.”

Will groans. Hannibal knows her too well, but fuck if she’s going to beg for it.

“What do you say, my darling?”

Please.

“F-fuck off,” Will says, trying to focus on bearing down, on accepting the immense toy into her, although now her attention is split between what she has inside of her at this very moment, and the possibility of what she  _ could  _ have inside her in the moments to follow. 

They’re both aware that the top drawer of Will’s nightstand—in close proximity to where she is currently dripping and trembling—contains her favorite vibrator, a pale-pink egg studded with tiny bumps, not unlike the ribbed surface of the dildo now shaft-deep in her ass. 

“Ask and you will receive,” Hannibal says, nipping at her earlobe, and Will wants to scream in frustration, but there’s about twelve inches of dildo packing her full at the moment, and nothing else escapes her save a broken-off gasp. 

Hannibal swats at her ass again, and Will glares at her. 

“F-fine! Fine, gimme the egg—”

Hannibal tsks. “Is that how you ask for things?”

“Stop tormen—”

Pulling the toy about halfway out, Hannibal shoves it back in, Will’s rim making a nasty sucking sound as it struggles to keep the dildo in, then struggles against keeping it out. 

“OhmyGod Hannibal, please, please gimme the egg—”

Loud thunk as the nightstand drawer opens and shuts. Light flick of a switch, and Will feels the cool vibrator pressed into her hand, thinking  _ not for long _ as she presses it to her wet slit. At this point, she’s basically face down, ass up with her face jammed into Hannibal’s pillow, but she doesn’t care. She’d be hard-pressed to admit it, but she likes the scent of Hannibal’s skin, left behind on the fabric, enjoys it even more as she eases the egg along her folds, gasps as she humps against it and her cunt opens eagerly, ready to swallow it whole. 

“Put it inside you,” Hannibal says, encouraging in a low voice. “But do not come, my dear. If you disobey me, you will be sorry.”

Will bares her teeth, instinctive displeasure at Hannibal’s warning warring with her desire to do as she’s told. 

“You’re gonna make me put something inside of me that always makes me come in two seconds flat, and you’re telling me to  _ hold myself back _ ?”

Hannibal’s maroon eyes are like steel as they watch her, and Will feels close to unnerved for a second before she succumbs to the realization that she’d long known what Hannibal was, known and chosen her anyway. 

Will rolls her eyes.

“I hope you have a punishment in mind already,” she mutters.

“Of course.”

Will rubs the egg between her lips for a few seconds, rocking slightly, before pushing it in. She groans, legs going syrupy and jelly-like as the vibrations strike the wet, pulsing core of her. The heavy pressure of the dildo inside her ass adds to it and she’s gasping, eyes tearing up in seconds.

“Oh, God—Hannibal, Hannibal, please—”

“Not yet, doll.”

Will lets out strangled yell, baring her teeth against the pillow. Hannibal cups Will’s crotch, applying pressure that Will can grind back against. Will makes a snarl, eyes closed and head tossed in concentration.

“Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come—”

“I said, not yet, darling.”

But Will wails and shudders, body twisting and jerking before going limp. She moans at the feeling of the egg still vibrating inside her, muscles involuntarily spasming.

Hannibal thrusts the dildo lazily in and out of Will’s loose, damp hole, and with her other hand, begins to rub at Will’s clit.

“Mmmph...no...Hannibal…” 

Her eyes have begun to glaze over, mouth slack and wanting. She’s reaching that whorish place of hedonistic sublimity, reduced to a collection of nerve endings. Hannibal relishes the folly of it; the folly of putting herself, in such a state, into Hannibal’s hands. When she’s like this, Hannibal could press a blade to her heaving flanks, her exposed, white belly, and Will’s only recourse would be to beg for more.

Hannibal teases her fingers into her drooling cunt, moving the egg in slow circles against that spongy spot near the front of her inner wall and Will gasps, hips writhing, Hannibal’s name a prayer on her lips.

“Turn over for me, love. Hands up, yes, just like that.”

Hannibal kisses her soft, wet mouth, tastes her sweet breath and swallows her moans. Will turns away, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunching, and Hannibal tuts, running her nose along the flat bridge of her cheek.

“Be good for me, darling.”

She pulls out the egg, admires the rush of slick that drips out from her pink lips. 

There’s a box under the bed, containing soft, silk rope. A deep purple, to match the bruises that will bloom along Will’s skin. Hannibal fetches it, along with a black blindfold. Will doesn’t resist as Hannibal arranges her body, arms above her head and tied together, then tied to the headrest. Hannibal fastens the blindfold next, leaning down to place a kiss between Will’s brows. She places a warm hand onto the middle of Will’s heaving chest and runs it down to her navel, the most vulnerable part of her. Will arches into the movement, body rippling so that it presses up against her palm as it drags along her skin. 

Hannibal scooches down so that her head is between Will’s splayed thighs. Hannibal can see the way she twitches when she feels Hannibal’s breath puff out gently against her heat. 

Hannibal pumps the dildo still wedged in Will’s ass in and out a couple of times before rubbing a finger along her rim. Will’s breaths are coming short and fast. Her toes curl, and flex in anticipation. Hannibal slowly squeezes an extra finger in, watching in fascination as the tight muscle clamps down around it, skin red.

“How does it feel?” Hannibal asks. Her long hair brushes against Will’s inner thigh as she adjusts her position so she can see Will’s face better. Will tugs against her bindings, biting her lip.

“I asked you a question.”

Will’s nostrils flare. 

“B-big,” she says.

“Big enough?”

Will flushes and nods. Hannibal trails her lips along the tendon of Will’s left thigh, feeling where it pulls taut under her touch.

“No need to be shy, darling.”

A second finger nudges at Will’s rim, and she groans. Sweat is making her curls stick to her neck, now, her collarbones dewy.

“Hannibal—”

“Such a dirty thing,” Hannibal whispers, traveling back to Will’s crotch and nosing at her cunt. “Still so wet.”

Will shudders when Hannibal runs her tongue between her lips, flicking upwards when she reaches Will’s clit; Hannibal squeezes in a second finger. Wiggles them around as best as she can against the unforgiving, hot pressure of Will’s insides struggling to keep her out.

“Take it out,” Will gasps. “Take it out.”

Hannibal smiles, teeth like a shark’s. “I thought you wanted a nice hard fuck, darling.”

“N-no, you—Don’t put words in my m-mouth.”

“You asked me to ‘do it rough,’ because that’s the way you like it.”

“Sadistic bitch,” Will hisses, and Hannibal  _ laughs _ , pressing another finger to her rim. 

“You poor thing. Straining to take me. Perhaps I shall have to train you again.”

Will shudders at the memory of being forced to spend a whole long weekend with either a thick plug in her ass or a dildo gag strapped into her skull. It fills her with something like need, warring eternally with something like dread. She’d always known she was a slut, but it was frightening, the depths to which she let Hannibal take advantage of that. 

“Oh, fuck,” she says, Hannibal lodging the toy deeper inside of her guts, her blood-swollen pussy dripping slick down her splayed thighs. 

“Someday you’ll take this toy and another just like it. You would like that, wouldn’t you,” Hannibal says, not a question, and Will clenches down around the thick dildo, betraying her interest. “A nice little gape.”

There’d be nothing little about it, Will thinks, letting out a silent cry as Hannibal yanks the toy from her body, her asshole unable to close at the sudden emptiness. Hannibal stares at the angry pink-red of her insides so intensely that Will, should she be able to see her, would know she’s thinking about what the rest of her looks like, opened up. 

“Oh my God,” she says, Hannibal’s tongue at her still-semi-lax rim, then licking _ inside _ of her, as close as she can get to touching her guts without sticking a knife into her. Feet sliding against the bed, she squirms and whimpers in humiliation as Hannibal spits into her, spreads the wad of saliva around with her finger as it drips out, biting the meatiest place of her thigh so that the pain will keep her still and frozen as she works. 

Pain, familiar as it is, is not completely successful at stalling her flailing, though she does calm when Hannibal whispers to her that she’s about to be untied from the bed. 

“Pitiful girl,” she says, nipping at the pinkened shell of Will’s ear. “If you’re good, I’ll let you come. You’ve earned it, even with your complaining.”

Will holds back a biting remark, because wasn’t this what she was after? Through the haze of frustration-pain-pleasure, it’s no longer so clear. 

She finds her arms threaded around Hannibal’s neck, wrists still tied, and leans into Hannibal’s neck, the collar of her blouse tickling Will’s nose as she seeks a moment of comfort before the little death that the other woman has planned. 

“Put your thighs, yes, sweet thing, you’ve got it,” Hannibal says, and doesn’t need to arrange Will’s legs to straddle one of her own because Will’s thinking a mile ahead, her pussy dragging against the wonderful friction of Hannibal’s wool trousers. 

“ _ Hn _ , hm.” She pants through her nose, hips working in a nasty, slow grind along Hannibal’s thick thigh. She didn’t know where the dildo had gone, until Hannibal finds the right angle, nudging it against her hole, and she yelps as her ass swallows half of it up in one go. 

“Come on, pretty girl, you can do better than that,” Hannibal says, and Will would mention how much she hates her, if she didn’t love her so fucking much. Love the way she pushes her eons past her limits, how she undoes her with her hands and mouth and voice and everything else, every time. 

“Don’t. Call. Me. Pretty. Girl,” Will says, grunting out each exhalation against Hannibal’s shoulder as she gyrates along her thigh, groaning at how soaked the fabric beneath her feels, even after such a short time. Hannibal fucks the toy in and out of her ass, though as Will trembles, breathing wetly onto her collarbone, getting close, she shoves the dildo in deep and relishes the broken moan Will can’t hide no matter how she tries. 

Will’s inner muscles clamp around the toy, and she almost frantically drives herself into Hannibal’s thigh, pussy clenching around nothing as she comes, bringing herself to a peak like an animal rutting against a post. 

“S-stop,” she says, weakly and unsuccessfully trying to pull her wrists free as Hannibal continues to leisurely fuck her ass with the toy, Will shaking with oversensitivity. 

“I know when I should stop,” Hannibal says, casual, as if she isn’t indulging in a sort of torture that Will’s been well acquainted with since they started sharing a bed. 

“Hng,” Will grunts, mouth slack as a hard thrust makes her rut into Hannibal’s leg again, pulling a weak second orgasm from her as she chases the remains of the first. “T-That’s your problem.”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow that she cannot see through the blindfold. 

“Y-you think you know best.”

“Don’t I?” Hannibal asks, amusement in her voice. 

“Shut up,” Will says, and hides her face in Hannibal’s neck. 

**Author's Note:**

> come find us on twitter [@penseeart](https://twitter.com/penseeart) and [@nise_kazura](https://twitter.com/nise_kazura) <3


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